


I Am the One

by Anonymous



Series: let there be dragons [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dragonborn Inquisitor, Eventual Romance, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The so-called Herald of Andraste is more powerful than most realize, with a soul of a dragon and the blood of the world in her veins.





	1. our hero! our hero!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana is witness to the coming of the Herald of Andraste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick chap to get things started.

When Cassandra and her party come treading through the gates, Leliana is a tad surprised to find the prisoner armed and none the worse for wear, matching Cassandra's own impregnable bearing.

The woman is tall, towering over most of their soldiers and even standing a few inches taller than Cassandra. The colour of her hair reminds Leliana of Empress Celene's own crowning glory, except the woman’s own is wilder and unkempt, tied loosely into a braid that falls past her chest.

"Chancellor Roderick, this is Sephiria," Cassandra announces when she reaches them at the table.

But the chancellor brushes Cassandra off, clicking his tongue as he sends the arriving party a condescending look.

"I know who she is," Roderick starts, puffing his chest and pulling the corners of his mouth into a sneer before enunciating the following words to a full. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution!"

"Order me?" Cassandra bristles. "You are a glorified _clerk_."

"And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!"

And before Leliana could even think to step in, Sephiria walks up to the table, a foreboding stature that Roderick stops in his tracks, turning away from Cassandra as he lifts his chin to meet the woman's stare.

The ground rumbles under Leliana's feet. Out of the corner of her eye, the Breach thunders almost above them as Sephiria speaks. "Perhaps you should listen to your betters, little man. The Breach still threatens us all."

Roderick's face turns red. "Little—you dare! I'll have you know that I—"

"Enough!” Cassandra cuts in. “We cannot afford the time to quarrel among ourselves while our people fight to their deaths. We will march, Chancellor, regardless of what you might have to say."

* * *

As the Hero of Ferelden slew the Archdemon, the feeling that settled in Leliana’s chest was one of weightless jubilation in that single moment. After all, uniting the races, pushing through hordes and hordes of Darkspawn and surviving against odds greater than anyone could imagine merits that much. Pure inspiring awe.

Yet it is almost the same kind of awe that Leliana feels (almost because she doesn't trust herself completely at the moment) when their supposed-to-be captive dances through the battlefield, expertly weaving in between the pride demon’s attacks.

How odd that the sight would induce that same disquiet when Leliana felt only lost in the recent hours, functioning mostly by rote and Cassandra's orders since her initial shock after the Conclave fell.

"The rift! Here they come!" Cassandra roars, alerting everyone as the Seeker braces against a backhanded blow with her shield. Just then, the rift sputters and breaks, spitting out the fourth wave of demons that slink to anyone closest to them.

Leliana swiftly releases an arrow at a shade that headed for Cassandra, easily piercing the back of its head before firing another and another until the demon dissolves into thin air, blackened essence flowing back into the rift. Beside her, Leliana can hear Varric's crossbow whistle at every bolt fired with incredible speed.

KRII

As the last shade falls, Leliana whips her head at the direction of the pride demon, aiming an arrow at the back of its leg and then releasing it just after Cassandra staggers a few steps back and Sephiria is flung a few paces away as she lands on her back.

But the arrow misses as the demon whirls around and Leliana growls under her breath while she loads another, pulling the string as far back as the bow would allow and aims. Cassandra lets out a roar as she charges at it, shield on the ready while Sephiria tries to recover.

Leliana lets loose another arrow and curses when the demon raises its scaled arm to shield its belly. But when the arrow doesn't bounce off the armor like it should have, her eyes instinctively searches for Cassandra, who seems equally dumbfounded as the Seeker stares at the sunken arrow.

Then quite suddenly, Sephiria flashes behind the demon, raising the polearm as she slashes at the demon's heel, rousing a guttural shriek as it falls to its knee. Sephiria follows through the attack, bounding against the wall and propelling herself onto the demon before digging the pointed end of her spear into its back.

The demon starts to thrash, tries to claw Sephiria from its back, who jumps off just in time as the demon slams into the wall. And in the few seconds that Sephiria is suspended midair with her weapon raised, she throws the spear into a graceful arc before it piercing the base of the demon's neck.

"Its–Its armour!" Cassandra shouts, newfound determination coating her voice and the soldiers are quick to notice it.

MID VUR

In an instant, Leliana draws another arrow from her quiver, a strange sensation crawling through her arms like chasing away the strains from her constant firing and fighting. Before long, the archers follow after she shoots another successful arrow. Her men cheer from the high grounds as they all but release a swarm of arrows at the beast, an uncanny speed in their arms with every arrow shot into the fray.

And not a moment too soon, the demon falls once more, but this time, collapsing onto the ground that shudders under its weight, the dust settling around them.

The fight is over the second the demon’s remains disintegrates and the soldiers break into a cheering roar.

Leliana turns to Sephiria from then on, an undeniable sense of power seeping from the strange woman even as she limped in her steps and her shoulders heaved.

Cassandra cuts through the field to get to Sephiria, clapping an armoured hand on her shoulder, the Seeker wasting no time as she directs the woman to the rift beneath the Breach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KRII - first word of the shout Marked for Death  
> MID VUR - first two words of the shout Battle Fury


	2. welcome to the spy club

Leliana is a dangerous woman. Sephiria doesn't need Cassandra or the rumors to tell her that. She knows her kind when she sees her, knows when a person is made to be ruthless regardless of soft voices and feminine faces.

She's never really spoken with her, not that she has any good reason to until she hears about her pack reportedly surviving the events at the Conclave. Because after Sephiria had gone to Cassandra to ask, the Seeker had directed her to Leliana's camp to retrieve her belongings.

“I don’t suppose there’s another way around this?”

“No, there is not,” Cassandra says and adds that Leliana had refused to relinquish it to anyone else.

"Even you, Seeker?"

"Of course not. But I trust she has her reasons," Cassandra pauses and regards Sephiria with apt suspicion. "Be careful what you say to her. She is our spymaster and a friend. I will not tolerate any ill conduct towards her person, be it you, Herald. And neither will she."

* * *

Haven is not especially grand that it's easy enough to find the right people, and Sephiria has been in Haven long enough (two days and conscious this time) to have memorized the layout of the land by now.

Leliana’s tent is hard to miss, seeing as it’s situated just outside the chantry doors. Sephiria makes her way up from the gates and it takes less than a couple of minutes to get there, ambling over until she reaches the flap of tent and finds Leliana kneeling in prayer at the far corner.

She veers away to give the woman her privacy, kicking the toe of her boot into the thin layer of snow while she waits until she hears the sound of footsteps behind her. Sephiria is vaguely aware that the woman had intended for her to hear her coming.

"Come to finally grace me with your presence, Herald? I'm honored."

Sephiria turns and notices that in spite of the woman's casual tone she is anything but, not when she slowly comes up to her, eyes hard and calculating.

"Though I suppose it was only a matter of time, what with you looking my direction every now and then."

Sephiria holds back a grimace before stirring the conversation to something else. "Lady Cassandra informs me that you have something of mine?"

"I do."

"May I have it back?"

Leliana looks at her pensively.

"I know you've looked it through, spymaster. Surely, you found nothing to suspect?"

This time, Leliana's eyes narrow for a fraction of a second. It's the first sign that doesn't sit well with Sephiria.

Leliana tilts her head slightly. "I’m afraid that is not case. One of my agents reported that most of your items have enchantments unknown to them. I cannot simply return them to you without knowing at least how they work, if not your motivations."

"And I can assure you, milady, that I have no intention of harming your Inquisition."

But Leliana holds her ground and stares at her that it doesn’t take long for Sephiria to falter.

"I..." Sephiria sighs, offers a smile of surrender, "I understand."

The small smile that Leliana offers in return, however short-lived, catches Sephiria by surprise. "Good. A demonstration is in order then. I will send word once I have an arrangement ready."

* * *

The arrangement turns out to be slated later into the night when an elf clad in the Inquisition's colours comes knocking on her door to tell her that the Nightingale had sent for her.

Sephiria makes a face until she realizes shortly that Nightingale might have been Leliana’s alias, catching the elf smirking at her.

“And you may call me Charter, my Lady Herald.”

When Charter takes them to the door that leads to the underground prison of the chantry, Sephiria feels a slight discomfort creeping to her arms and nape from having been held captive there just a few days prior, anxious of what the spymaster might have in store for her.

Upon reaching the end of the corridor, Sephiria sees both Cassandra and Leliana hovering over a table, likely where most of Sephiria’s valuables are on display.

As she makes her way to them, Cassandra turns to her and nods before taking off to the corner of the room, leaving Leliana and Charter with her at the table. There, she cautiously takes a look at the mask that lay on the far right side, plated in gold and the long canines curving up and outward. She inwardly sighs in relief that no one thought to steal it or anything else.

“What did you have in mind, milady, when you asked for a demonstration?” Sephiria starts, her voice echoing in the room. “I forget, exhibiting these items isn’t normally manageable—given our current circumstance.”

“A description of each of the enchantments would be a start,” Leliana answers smoothly. “Leave circumstance to me.”

“You're remarkably difficult to dissuade, you know that?”

Beside Leliana, Charter makes a tight-lipped smile, one Sephiria likes to think as a suppressed grin. Cassandra grunts from the corner of the room.

“Very well,” Sephiria says then first takes a couple of rings from the center of the table, picking up the silver band and then fumbling with it between her fingers. "This muffles any sound the wearer makes, while the other one, ah," she pauses when Leliana stretches out her palm to her, which Sephiria then delicately places the ring there.

"The other one helps with breathing while underwater."

Leliana and Cassandra exchange glances.

"And the pendant, my lady?" Charter speaks up, a tad curious from what Sephiria can tell.

"It's a charm. Helps increase the wearer’s resistance to poison. The one I have on me," Sephiria pulls at the collar of her shirt, revealing a leather cord and an obsidian stone, "helps with warding off diseases though not completely."

Sephiria moves to pick up the dagger next but Leliana grabs her hand, her own gloved one wrapped firmly around her wrist. Cassandra finally steps forward, slowly moving to Sephiria's side.

Sephiria evenly meets Leliana's icy stare and attempts to pull away, to no avail. Seconds pass and when it seems apparent that Leliana has no intention of letting go, Sephiria presents her with a disarming smile. "My apologies, milady. I didn’t mean to startle you. I only hoped to describe the dagger's enchantment next."

"No need, the dagger I know of," Leliana says then releases her grip, allowing Sephiria to withdraw her hand. "Tell us about the mask."

* * *

Other than serving as an excellent headgear and its healing properties, Sephiria does not reveal the full extent of the mask’s capabilities. Cassandra seems convinced. Leliana is still suspicious, for the most part, but it’s enough that she lets Sephiria leave with all of her belongings.


	3. i will not fly for You

Three weeks have passed since Sephiria, along with Cassandra, Varric and Solas, set foot in the Hinterlands to collect Mother Giselle and seal the scattered rifts, as well as fortify the refugee camps after the devastation brought about from the Mage-Templar war.

After Solas confirmed, through some magical means Sephiria has no clue about, that there were no longer any rifts around the region, Cassandra had decided it was best to leave for Haven at first light.

They finally arrive at Haven a couple of hours into the afternoon with three caravans more than when they left. After they crossed the Penitent’s Bridge, Sephiria helps unload the caravans until Cassandra’s timely advice for her to get some rest, one she doesn’t quite argue with. Three weeks of constant fighting and exertions from sealing rifts have taken its toll, and if Cassandra could tell that much, then Sephiria, as stoic as she might try to be, has finally reached her limit.

She heads to her cabin after leaving Cassandra with a word of thanks and puts on a conscious effort to look more standoffish than usual if only to avoid whatever pleasantries anyone might have for her. And it works that Sephiria makes it to her cabin without the debris of polite conversation or anything that comes with the word ‘herald’ in it.

She flings herself through the door, throwing her coat and buckles off before collapsing onto the bed. Sephiria is so exhausted that she doesn’t even realise that she’s fallen asleep right then.

* * *

It’s past sunset when Sephiria wakes to the sound of singing, the flicker of torches from the window is more vibrant in the dark than it is with the sun up.

She sighs into her pillow. Dinner must have been served hours ago.

But then Sephiria remembers the leftovers of dried mutton in her pack from the night before. It should do. All she needs now is a good amount of ale, leading her to idly wonder if Flissa would mind her rummaging through the counter.

Slipping into her fur coat, Sephiria steps out of the cabin to find the usual bustling crowd of Haven reduced to two guards manning the gates, who peer at her curiously when she throws them a small nod before heading for the stairs. And once she climbs up the top, certain that no one is looking, she darts through the many tents as she finally reaches the tavern door. Relieved to find it unlocked, Sephiria quickly lets herself in.

“You’re awake.”

Sephiria snaps her head at the sound, discovering Leliana at the corner adjacent to the door that Sephiria failed to notice when she snuck in.

“Sister Leliana,” she says, carefully keeping the surprise from her voice, “good evening.”

Leliana nods and stares at her for a moment longer before returning her attentions to the thin stack of papers and miniature scrolls on the table. Sephiria takes this as her cue to go about her business, walking over to behind the counter as she bends down to grab a clean jug. She fills it up with the barrel of ale while watching Leliana from the corner of her eye, who is currently sipping at the contents of a chalice, daintily so.

Outside, the singing has been replaced with a somber chant that seems to resonate from the halls of the chantry, marking the start of a canticle recitation.

“A recitation by Mother Giselle,” Leliana says, voice little more than a murmur.

Sephiria hums in return, turning the tap of the barrel when she's filled half the jug. She’s glad for this conversation at least.

“Which canticle?”

“Benedictions.”

It’s quiet again for a while. Sephiria pulls up a seat sharing the same table as Leliana, but keeps two chairs between them at a distance.

“I’d have pegged you to be the religious type, Sister,” Sephiria says, more daring than teasing.

Leliana lifts her eyes from her reports to look at her. “What of it?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be attending?”

“I could say the same about you, Herald of Andraste.”

Sephiria snorts, unfurling the cloth of leftovers that she brought with her when she stepped out of the cabin.

“It was your people who declared me herald, not that I care for it. Much.

Leliana chuckles quietly. What happens next, however, catches Sephiria off guard, right after Leliana rasps.

"You are lucky."

Sephiria regards her with a worried look then, lips pursing into a thin line as she studies the woman’s countenance, noting the now darker shade under her eyes, the paleness of her once rosy lips and the tension that slumped her from her usual grace.

“What’s wrong?”

“What isn’t?” Leliana scoffs, clasping her hands together.

Sephiria stays still, and waits.

“The Maker should have never let this happen,” Leliana finally says, both anger and grief coloring her words like Sephiria has never heard from her before. “He discards His own faithful – abandons us to our demise even after everything Justinia sacrificed – what good is the Maker if He doesn’t save the best of us?”

Leliana scrunches her brows that they almost touch. And Sephiria, not having anticipated any form of emotional honesty from the spymaster is left speechless.

“It was all for nothing," Leliana sighs, and then quietly, "serving the Maker meant nothing.”

"For what it's worth," Sephiria cuts in before the silence is too thick and meets her gaze, "I'm sorry for your loss. Justinia obviously meant a lot to you."

They stay like that for a moment, staring, gauging each other's sincerity until Leliana eventually breaks into a series of short quiet huffs, "Enough. I regret letting you see me like this. It was a moment of weakness. It won't happen again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler filler on the wall  
> who's the laziest of us all


	4. occupational hazard

Sephiria's chest twists into a feeling that is little more than unnerving when they learn about what Leliana had been put through.

After they find Fionna, who with all haste had informed them of Leliana’s capture, Sephiria had begun to fear for the worst.

Somewhere along the way, there were notes scattered from room to room that detailed a number of experiments done on the spymaster’s body, accounting implants from taint-ridden victims, blood and organ extracts among those mentioned.

Cassandra is the first to find her, kicking down the door at the end of hall once they reach the lowest floor of the castle. And lo and behold, when Sephiria comes into the dimly lit room, the first thing she sees is Leliana bound in chains, arms strewn as they held her from the ceiling.

Sephiria doesn’t waste time to bound for the lone Venatori in the room, who is still sticking the knife at Leliana’s neck with a stupid audacity that makes her blood boil. But before she could reach him, wrap her hand around his throat and squeeze and it would have been so, _so_ easy, Leliana hefts herself up, promptly wrapping her legs around the Venatori's neck to strangle him then snaps it in one swift movement.

“You’re alive,” Leliana rasps and releases the now dead body to crumple onto the floor.

It takes Sephiria a few seconds to register what just happened before she finally bends over the corpse to search for the keys.

Once she does, Sephiria makes quick work to free Leliana from her cuffs, who tumbles forward into her arms, spurring the taller of the two to check for any fresh injuries, ignoring the distinct smell of rot invading her senses, the way how awfully loose Leliana's skin feels from under her hands, the bony definition of her arms and the glaring image of muscle atrophy.

But as soon as Leliana regains whatever strength she has left, she shrugs off of Sephiria’s arms and throws her a withering look, before wordlessly crossing the room where a large chest was situated.

There is little Sephiria could do to stop herself from staring, not when Leliana’s arms and legs are haphazardly lined with scars and cuts. Much of the spymaster’s beauty had been stripped away, replaced with the gruesome appearance of dry, chipping skin and ashen complexion sinking into her bones.

Sephiria would have been horrified had she not witnessed so much death in the previous years, had she not caused so much of it herself.

She is a veteran of two wars, and this is her third.

She pities the spymaster, more than anything. And Leliana’s likeness to a walking corpse only strengthens Sephiria’s resolve to be done with this version of the world.

Rummaging through the chest, Leliana produces a large dirty tunic and a leather cuirass and then starts to dress. It takes a good couple of minutes for her to finish before arming herself with a bow and two quivers from the nearby weapons rack.

“Let’s go.”

“You... aren't curious how we got here?” Dorian asks, shattering the silence.

Sephiria attempts to reprimand the mage but looks away as soon as Leliana levels a glare in their direction.

“No.”

* * *

Leliana hasn't moved an inch since Cassandra and Solas have stepped out of the throne room for what seems like hours ago.

They're expecting a league of Venatori and demon spawns, likely a large and formidable group if Cassandra and Solas' earlier unease isn't telling.

In Alexius' final breath, the magister revealed that the Elder One had been desperate to search for a way to erase Sephiria’s existence completely.

It concerned her, why a would-be god would obsess over Sephiria's survival. Because despite disappearing over a year and the Venatori's evident success in ruining the world, the Elder One had made it known that her reappearance would turn out to be more than simple inconvenience. The magnitude of destruction looked irreparable and beyond Sephiria's own ability to fix, yet this Elder One seemed to think otherwise.

Once the sound of fighting breaks in the hall Sephiria and Dorian slowly turn to each other, both sharing anxious looks. Some distance from the door, Leliana readies her bow.

"Anytime now, Dorian," Sephiria says, the words barely making it out of gritted teeth from her growing anxiety, dreading the very likely possibility of never getting back to her own time.

"Nearly there! I only need to alter the amount of ambient energy allowed into the amulet before I cast the spell."

"Quickly, then."

"Sephiria, I must warn you. Try not to stray more than three feet away from me. I'm not certain when exactly will the spell be ready, only that it will be soon. I can't imagine what your Inquisition might do to me if I come back without you."

Just as he finishes, a sudden explosion behind the sealed door causes Dorian to jump.

"Vishante kaffas!"

"Focus, Dorian!" Sephiria brings her hand to her belt but stops short of unsheathing the axe there when she remembers Dorian’s warning to stay close.

Sephiria swears under her breath when the door takes another hit, looking around for a spare bow until an idea dawns on her.

When the door finally blasts open, Sephiria sights at least three terror demons and a heavy complement of Venatori not far behind. Sephiria grinds her teeth when she spots Cassandra lying motionless by some rubble not too far from the entrance while Solas is nowhere to be seen.

Leliana is quick enough to take on the first incoming wave the moment they step past the doorway, taking out three Venatori and one demon, all in a span of a minute.

There isn’t a moment of hesitation when Sephiria brings her hands together to form a small ball of magic. With the adrenaline coursing through her arms, it takes almost no time at all before a recurve bow finally forms in the palms of her hands, and soon enough, Sephiria joins the fight.

Far back in the hallway, a rift sputters into life and the nightmare only begins when the hulking figure of a pride demon magicks from thin air, along with two more terror demons, only this time, they are larger than the ones from the initial wave.

With a troubling sense of urgency, Sephiria immediately redirects her bow to the far back to delay the latest wave but in her doing so, fails to notice an enemy archer aiming at her. She realizes her mistake too late when Leliana leaps to cover her, taking a shot to her chest and the moment it happens does Sephiria's blood turn cold.

Leliana nearly doubles over but forces herself to stand and use what little else she has left to fight off the number of Venatori that managed to slip closer. Before Sephiria could even take a step forward, Dorian snatches her arm and yanks her back.

“You move and _we_ _all die!_ ”

Sephiria snaps around to Leliana, who has discarded her bow and has somehow miraculously taken down a couple Venatori with a dagger. But it was only a matter of time before a terror demon portals from the ground, taking Leliana by surprise and knocking her onto her back.

And before Sephiria could fully realize what she was about to do, she pulls back her shoulders and _breathes_ right before shaking the entire building into a vicious tremor, the Venatori and demons blown back, where even the enormous pride demon is sent staggering as if from a great, disastrous wind.

No sooner than later, a number of Venatori disintegrate into ashes, and the weakened demons fade away leaving only those in the back and others who were hidden from the invisible blast.

Leliana slowly turns to Sephiria, eyes wide with a newfound fear and shock.

A sheet of white light envelopes Sephiria then, fading away as quickly as it came and suddenly, they're back in the same hall where they confronted Alexius the first time, the lack of red lyrium creeping from the walls a most welcome sight.

* * *

"You won," Alexius' dejected voice rings hollow in Sephiria's ears, not quite reaching her.

When Sephiria attempts to send Alexius a hard look, Dorian stops her, turning her away from everyone else and then leaning up to her face to whisper.

“Your eyes, Sephiria,” he tells her quickly and Sephiria knows what he means that she immediately brings up a hand to her face as if nursing a headache.

A few seconds later, Cassandra slides up to her, obviously concerned. “Herald, you—are you alright?”

Sephiria faces the Seeker when Dorian nods his head to no one in particular.

“Fine, Seeker. A little winded, is all.”

Thankfully, Cassandra leaves it at that, assuming charge of the situation and issuing Alexius' arrest for attempted murder before ordering the Inquisition soldiers to take him away.

Dorian sighs beside her, watching as the magister is escorted out of the castle. "Well, I'm glad that's over with."

Except, the moment Dorian says so, Sephiria hears the rhythmic march of an incoming band of soldiers, the telltale sound of steel armour clunking together. In a matter of seconds, a slew of warriors file into the hallway, none of them wearing Inquisition colours.

"Or not," Dorian lamely finishes.

Amidst them, a woman in a simple gown appears, followed by another woman behind her, the fur cape and decorative insignia on her breastplate setting her apart from the rest of the infantry.

“The Queen of Ferelden and her royal guard,” Cassandra dutifully informs Sephiria in a hushed voice.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona," the queen calls, exuding an air of unmistakable authority.

"Your Majesty, Queen Anora," Fiona greets, walks over to the monarch and delivers a graceful bow.

"Oh my," Dorian whispers, "not here for us then?" 

"When I granted your mages sanctuary, I thought it was understood that they would not force my people from their homes."

"Your majesty..." Fiona starts meekly, her fingers fiddling with each other, "Let me assure you, we never intended any of this—!"

"Your _intentions_ ceased to matter when my people were threatened! I am rescinding my offer of sanctuary. You and your followers are to leave Ferelden at once."

"But we have hundreds who need protection! Where will we go?"

"Your Majesty," Sephiria speaks up, parting a curt bow before resuming, "if I may? The Grand Enchanter has surrendered her leadership to the magister, who is currently in our custody." Sephiria then turns to address Fiona, "You will be leaving with us."

"And what are the terms of this arrangement?"

Sephiria could feel her eyebrow twitch, her temper slowly flaring. "Terms? You realize that you are conscripts of the magister. You _do_ understand what this means for you and your mages?"

"I know I should have never accepted the magister's contract but—"

"You may discuss negotiations with the Inquisition leaders but until then you will leave with us as conscripts of the magister. Or you can fend for yourselves against the templars, maybe find another magister to take you in – you could still do worse."

"Herald!" Cassandra admonishes her from behind.

Anora quirks an elegant brow, studying Sephiria before returning her gaze to Fiona. "Whether you accept the Inquisition's offer or not, you _will_ leave my kingdom."

To Sephiria's small surprise, it doesn't take Fiona long to make her decision. "I accept. I will gather my people and ready them for the journey to Haven."

"Well done, the first rational choice on your part I assume?"

" _I_ will take it from here," Cassandra intervenes, nearly drags Sephiria back if it weren't for the company. "Return to Haven with Solas and the Tevinter, I will stay with the mages as their escort."

Sephiria smiles wryly at the Seeker's unamused state, whose eyes promise a stern lecture later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll find FUS RO DAH if you squint.
> 
> Skyrim spells used:  
> Bound Bow


End file.
